


Beyond Pretence

by wesleyfanfiction_archivist



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-10-21
Updated: 2003-10-21
Packaged: 2018-07-12 08:36:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7094542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleyfanfiction_archivist/pseuds/wesleyfanfiction_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "It's Just A Figure Of Speech." Post "Home," Fred goes to Wes to ask what happens now. And it's not just her questions that need satisfying… it's that voice in her head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond Pretence

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [WesleyFanfiction.net](http://fanlore.org/wiki/WesleyFanFiction.Net). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [WesleyFanfiction.net collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wesleyfanfiction/profile).

Author's Note: Now, because of what Angel did in "Home," with Connor and wiping him from everyone's memories but his, some stuff never happened. (By the way, what's with that? Anyone harping back to season 1? Buffy? The lost day? Am I the only one seeing a pattern here?). I've decided that Wes left Angel Investigations and did sleep with Lilah (explanation in the fic). And the whole Jasmine thing happened, just without Connor. Proper explanation the fic, but I thought I'd let you know what would change.

***

Fred paused outside the door and bit her lip. She had left Pylea far behind her. Every bit of it. All except a tiny voice she forced to the back of her mind whenever she could. She had cultivated the voice as company. Sometimes she thought she owed it her sanity. Alone in that cave, it was all she had for company and shutting it up was something she had yet to achieve. And it was this same inner voice that urged her to this door.

You know you won't be able to concentrate until you've seen him, it told her, you want to know he's all right.

She did. She was worried about him.

They had been working at Wolfram and Hart for a month now and things were far better now than they had been over the past turbulent few months. All except one thing.

Cordelia was dead. Had died a few days after their arrival at Wolfram and Hart. Despite Lilah's furtive promises that they would do everything for her, they couldn’t save her. She faded away. Angel was with her when it happened, griping her hand as she stopped breathing. 

Fred had told Wesley. 

He had stared at her. She watched in horror as his eyes filled up, his fingers clenching on the arms of his chair. He stood shakily, leaning on his desk, breathing heavily. Trembling fingers wrapped around a paperweight and she watched as he threw it. The colourful globe shattering against the far wall as he swept everything from his desk. She approached him slowly as he picked up a picture from the desk. Peering over his shoulder, she saw it was one from his wallet. Himself with Cordelia and Angel.

"Wesley?" she had ventured as he turned and sank against the desk, eyes brimming with tears as his knuckles whitened.

"No," he had breathed, throwing the picture across the room as tears broke freely.

Not knowing what else to do, she reached blindly for him. He hugged her tightly around the waist, sobbing into her neck as she soothed his back and hair, crying herself. 

Cordelia's death had been the finale in a spectacular show of misery and angst.

A summer you want to forget. A summer that felt empty. And you couldn’t think why, could you? Why it would feel so empty? But you know now of course. That summer, Wes wasn’t around.

No, Wes hadn't been around. He and Angel had fallen out spectacularly. Darla had returned and Wes had urged Angel to dust her, before she dusted him and Angel had refused. It was because of this argument - an argument had forced Fred under a desk for two hours - that Wes had left, barely seen the entire summer. Fred still shuddered when she remembered the things Angel had said in the heat of the moment, about Wes and about his past. She tried to forget the comments Angel had yelled about Wes's father.

Wes did return though, handing Angel a briefcase on Cordelia's disappearance. Angel had dusted Darla a little while after Wes's departure, as she had attacked Fred, leaving him with no choice. And Angel had apologised, Wes too and everything was fine. It wasn’t until shortly after Cordelia's return, when Angel had to become Angelus to beat the Beast, that Fred found out about Lilah. But she understood that. She had talked to Wesley about the evening after Willow's departure. Everything seemed to be getting better.

Then everything went to hell.

Cordelia somehow got pregnant, some kind of weird Immaculate Conception. Then there had been that whole Jasmine thing that really screwed up everything. Ending that was what earned them Wolfram and Hart. But now that everything was over, things were starting to return to normal. She and Gunn were returning to the way they had been before they started going out and Wes and Angel leaned on each other. They felt Cordy's loss the most, she had been the one that declared them family.

Fred had barely seen Wes since the day she told him Cordy had gone. She wondered how he was doing, she had attempted to broach the subject when she met him in the elevator, but he had cleverly side stepped it, getting out a floor early to avoid her. 

But you worry about him, the voice said, lately, you just can't seem to stop thinking about him. What's this all about, Fred?

She frowned, ignoring the voice and knocked on the door.

"Come in."

She almost ran away at the sound of that voice. So empty, sad and quiet, lacking the spirit she remembered. But she pushed against the door, plastering a smile on her face.

Wes looked up, blinked once, then bowed his head over his work again.

"What can I do for you, Fred?" he asked.

"Oh… nothing," she grinned, "I just thought I'd… drop by."

Her grin faded as his steady stare didn’t waver. There was something challenging about it, cold and closed off. It sent a shiver down her spine.

But in a good way, the little voice hissed, every time he looks at you, it's like there's no one else around. You and your decisions, Fred. Pick a guy and stick to him, will ya?

"Anything in particular on your mind?" Wes asked, his gaze still on her as he leaned back in his chair.

"Should there be?" she answered, taking a seat on the other side of the desk.

"I rarely see you unless you have something to ask. The same goes for the others."

There was something mournful in his voice, something that made Fred feel tiny. 

Oh, but he's right. As usual. When did you ever see him without wanting to know something? And most of the time, you could have worked out the answer for yourself. You just wanted to see him. And now he thinks you don’t care. This really isn't going well, is it?

"We've been busy," Fred told him.

"Yes," he replied thoughtfully, eyes leaving hers to fix on the papers on her desk, "though you'd think we'd be finished by now. An entire month of working and we're still busy," he looked up at Fred, "or are we?"

"W-what do you mean?" Fred asked.

"Merely a question," he shrugged, "I thought we may as well have a worthwhile conversation. I haven't had one in a while. So, what do you think of our pretence of working?"

"I don’t know…" she tailed off, searching for a better answer. Because you want to keep him talking and you have to have a better answer than that, because he's always thought you knew so much. Who would have thought he could be so wrong. She gulped hard, ignoring the voice, "well… Maybe it's because we don’t know what to say."

"Really?" he raised an eyebrow, leaning forward, "go on."

"I mean, we're here. Working at Wolfram and Hart. We're not sure what that makes us, if what we think we are matches up to what the others think. I guess it's the fear of not knowing that's keeping us apart."

"Us," he mused, "I was even starting to wonder if there was an 'us' anymore."

"Of course there is!" she cried out and he smiled.

Why is he smiling? Maybe because you've stopped being the little girl he knew from Pylea, you've finally started actually talking. Maybe he missed you. Which is stupid because you've never earned it. But he loved you anyway. 

"It's good to see you adamant again," he said softly, "Angel, Gunn, even me, we all seem so…"

"Grey?"

"Yes," he nodded, "grey. Never to be true White Hats again."

"But we still fight for the good," Fred protested.

"You're right. But we're backed by evil."

"Wesley?"

"Yes?"

"I did come here to ask you something…"

"Oh."

Stupid girl! Now look what you've done. Made him feel like a colleague again. And he's so much more than that. He's family, a friend. Someone you care about.

"I meant…" Fred frowned, "I wanted to ask you a question that only you could answer. What happens now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Will things ever be the same again? Will we ever be those people in that hotel again? Will we ever… Will we ever be family again? You don’t understand, Wes. I got so scared when Cordy… She was the one who held us all together. The glue, the heart. And then she was gone and I couldn’t keep a hold on anything and I got so scared."

His eyes lowered at the mention of Cordelia's name and his answer was delayed by a few seconds as he breathed in and out slowly. He looked up at her, meeting her eyes.

"Why?"

God, if only he wouldn’t look at you like that. Grab a hold of your thoughts, girl, that’s the kinda look that sends all rational thought out the window.

"Because… Because when I got back from Pylea, having you guys was what made things easier. And then when we needed each other most, we were all on our own. I know you and Angel talked, but it's not the same, is it?"

"No," he agreed, "no, it's most definitely not the same."

His head slumped forward and she watched him take a deep breath and slump into himself as he let it go.

Oh no. He looks so lost. And you're just sitting there. Move, dammit! Do what you've come here to do! Don’t act like you don’t know what I mean. Tell him.

"I miss you, Wes," she whispered.

He looked up, mouth twitching as he looked almost… horror-struck?

Great job, Fred. Now you've scared the hell outta him. Sit down! She dropped into her seat with a thump and squeezed the arms to prevent herself trying to leave again. Talk to him, Fred. Make him believe you because he sure as hell doesn’t believe you at this moment.

"Wes, I -"

"Please. Don’t say anything," he cut in quietly.

"Wes…"

"I don’t - Fred, I don’t think my feelings for you are any secret, are they?"

"No," she answered her, blushing and lowering her eyes.

"So I think it's best for you to leave now, before I do something bloody stupid."

Fred blinked, swallowed her question and nodded.

So you're just going to give up. No one else is going to make the first move, you need to do something to make everything right again. You wanted to get the gang back together again for Cordy. And you wanted to start with him and you know why.

So don’t you dare leave now.

"Like what?" she asked.

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"I think we both know what," he stood up and she did the same, "I'll see you, Fred."

"Yeah. Yeah, you too."

She nodded, turned, smacked into the chair and laughed off his "Are you all right?" as she left.

She clicked the door shut behind her and closed her eyes, leaning against the door with a soft thump.

Well, that was a shining example of how to screw up. You had your chance all you had to do was say you wanted him to something bloody stupid. All you had to do was tell him you've never wanted anything more. 

And now you've made it worse. Now whenever you see him, he'll avoid you more than he did before. He'll never look you in the eye, he'll never be able to talk about anything but business. There'll always be a wall between you now and it was just starting to come down, but you've missed your chance. 

Pretence is all you'll ever get from him now, Fred, and - what are you doing?

She didn’t know. 

All she knew was that she didn’t want to listen to that stupid little voice telling her that she had screwed up, done everything the wrong way. The worse part would be in knowing the damned voice was right, so it would never shut up. It was like Cordelia, it liked to make sure everyone understood she had been right. 

But Fred just wanted to shut it up.

She opened the door and saw Wes leaning his head back, hands pressed over his eyes. She slammed the door shut without meaning to, but he didn’t jump, just sat up slowly and stared at her.

"Something wrong?" he asked coolly.

I told you it would be like this, the voice hissed, cold and professional. Just remember that you've done this.

"I wanted answers," Fred stated, "I came here looking for answers. Only I forget to ask the questions. So I couldn’t get the answers and I really needed them because -"

"Fred," Wes cut in, standing up.

She took a deep breath.

"Just… listen, please. Just answer these questions for me. Do you miss the old days?"

"Yes," he answered honestly, "yes, I do."

"Me too. Do you want to do something about getting them back?"

"I wouldn’t know how."

"That's not the point. Do you want to do something about getting them back?"

"Yes."

"Well, same here. So why don’t we do it together? Two people are stronger than one. You and me could pull this thing back from the brink. Otherwise, what's the point in fighting?"

"There isn't," he replied.

"So we have to do something."

"All right," he smiled, "anymore questions?"

"Yes," she paused, wondering if what she wanted to say was the best thing to say. But she said it anyway, "did you miss me? Like I missed you?"

He blinked, swallowed hard and dropped his gaze. Once more, she saw him take in a deep breath and let it go.

"I did," he said in a low voice.

"Oh."

"Oh"? That’s it? Couldn’t you have come up without something better than "oh"?

"'Oh' indeed."

"I've…" she nibbled her lip, "I've got one more question."

"Fire away," he breathed, shrugging. He had already given so much away, he might as well hand her the reins.

"Do you… Do you love me?" she whispered.

He blinked, rubbed his eyes and reached for the glasses on his desk. He pushed them on slowly and stared at her. 

"A rather silly question," he replied briskly, "as you have already admitted that you're aware of my feelings for you. To make it that bit clearer, yes, I do. Though why you wanted to hear that, I've no idea. I can't imagine why -"

"I needed to make sure," she cut in, "I don’t like making admissions until I know how the other person feels."

His mouth swung open, then snapped shut as he drew himself up straighter.

"What are you saying?" he asked.

"What do you think I'm saying, Wesley? Do I really have to spell this out?" she smiled, almost a goofy grin as she lifted her hands up in question.

"I think I'd like you to," he replied uneasily.

Do it. Tell him. You'll never get another chance. Tell him how you feel. How you miss him more than you thought possible, how you want nothing more than to taste him once more. Just tell him, Fred, the worst he can do is break your heart and you've already done that to him and he dealt with it.

"I love you," she whispered, "I… love you. I don’t know how else to say it."

"I think you made it clear enough," he answered.

"So what are you going to do about it?" she asked.

"I'm leaning toward kissing you," he smiled.

She walked around the desk and smiled shyly up at him. Slowly, she took hold of the front of his shirt and pulled him close. Their lips were millimetres apart when she whispered:

"Lean a little bit more."

"My pleasure," he breathed in reply as he pressed his lips to hers.

After only a second's hesitation, her hand let go of his shirt and she curled her fingers into his hair while the other hand gripped his shoulder. His arms wrapped around her, one around her waist, the other hand pressing between her shoulder blades.

I've got to hand it to you, you really pulled this back. And two last words for you, girl: 

Mmmm, salty goodness. 

 

THE END


End file.
